Like Father Like Son
by Twiist
Summary: Pansy encounters a random latenight conversation with her son. ONESHOT. Kinda fluffy.


**Title: **Like Father Like Son.  
**Author: **invisiblelnk _(livejournal ID)_  
**Rating: **G  
**Prompt Set: **100.2  
**Prompt: **041. Questions  
**Word Count: **2068  
**Summary: **(AU. About 10 years on from DH, making Pansy somewhere in her late 20's.) Pansy encounters a random late night conversation with her son.  
**Warnings: **None that I can think of. Vaguely touches on death, so I suppose that should be mentioned.  
**Notes: **Created for the 100quills challenge (_livejournal_). Cross posted to my journal (invisiblelnk). It's pretty damn fluffy, but I liked the idea of the conversation in general, so I went with it, lol.

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Pansy had been sat at the desk, her quill twirling idly in one hand, for several hours now as the large grandfather clock behind her continued its merciless ticking into the balmy night air, relentlessly interrupting any of the thoughts she had previously intended to document with each measured tick of its hands. The sound was incessant, pounding against her eardrums and bouncing around the otherwise still room with what appeared to be an obnoxious amount of enthusiasm for mere vibrations.

Such noises only ever made the manor seem even more hauntingly vast than it initially appeared, reminding Pansy of the first time she had stepped inside the entrance hall and had been forced to marvel at its sheer magnificence while Draco made his way down the sweeping staircase, dressed in a typically all-black outfit and wearing a clearly prideful grin at the expression on her face when assessing the grandeur of his family home.

The tail end of that summer, she remembered, had been perfect from then on; or it at least remained perfect in Pansy's mind after remitting certain arguments and minor details that would ordinarily have sullied such a fond memory. It had come as a shock that not only had Draco returned her owl posts rather regularly during the six weeks, but had actually requested her presence at the manor towards the end of their school break. She could not have been happier at such a turn of events, thinking that perhaps the ostentatious git had finally realized that she _was _worth his precious time after all. But knowing Draco, it was probably because he was bored after a summer away with his family and craving something a little closer to his Hogwarts home. Either way, Pansy hadn't minded, and had instantly set about donning the most proper-looking of several curve accentuating outfits she had recently invested in before making an excited dash towards her parents fireplace, offering the elder Parkinson's a babbled summary of where she was headed and disappearing into a rush of emerald flame before they had chance to answer.

Frowning at the sudden rush of memory, she threw the quill angrily down towards the desk only to be met with a vicious splattering of inky blobs on the parchment in front of her as well as her hand. With a sigh that bordered on a muffled sob, she raised the stained hand to her forehead and pressed a thumb and forefinger to her temples, willing her stinging eyes not to water as they were threatening to, although failing miserably as they finally brimmed over, sending hot tears cascading down her cheeks. The odd whimper or sniffle alongside the soft constant thud of her tears as they hit the parchment seemed to be the only sound in existence then and for a long series of moments afterwards, drowning out the ruthless ticking clock and even managing to mask the slight squeak of the door as it opened behind her and exposed the darkened silhouette of a small boy, only discerned from the shadows beyond the doorframe by the soft gleam of his white blonde hair in the moonlight.

"_Mummy?"_

Pansy's ears pricked up at the familiar sound, her hand hurriedly pawing at her face in a vain attempt to wipe away the moistness from beneath her reddened eyes before she turned with a smile towards the figure in the doorway, her brow slightly furrowed in an expression that seemed far more worry filled than it should be at such a sight.

"_What are you doing up at this hour? How many times do I have to tell you that.." _

Her words trailed off into a sigh as the blonde child in front of her let his lips form a pout much akin to the one she often wore herself, rendering her suddenly without any further comment. Shaking her head and ushering the tiny pyjama clad boy into the room, she smiled at him as he climbed onto her lap, staring up at her with painfully reminiscent grey eyes.

"_I-- I couldn't sleep.."_

Her arms found their way around the small form of her son, pulling him a little closer to her and planting a kiss in his hair as she rested her head atop his and let out a gentle sigh.

"_Neither could I.."_

"_I know you couldn't."_ The child interrupted. _"You were crying."_

Pansy frowned, taken aback by the lucidity of such a comment and feeling rather flustered by such an utterance being so clear in the mind of her little boy. Taking a moment to wonder how he could have heard her muted sobs in the first place, she soon offered a shrug and a slightly staggered reply.

"_I-- I'm sorry darling. I-- I didn't realize you could hear me."_

The child raised his eyebrows, pulling away from his mother's grasp in aid of looking up at her and speaking rather plainly as he shrugged his shoulders in return; as though eavesdropping on his mother was the most natural thing in the world.

"_Of course I could hear you, I was stood at the door listening.. "_

Pansy chuckled despite thinking better of it, wondering if it would have been in her best interest to have prepared herself for such a reply if she had been able. Pushing a section of blonde hair from the boy's face, she shook her head and smiled down at him for a long moment, her eyes glassy and filled with silent remorse.

"_You're so much like your father, you know.."_

The boy in her lap shot her an intrigued frown, tilting his head to the side for a moment and assessing his mothers rather wistful expression before leaning back onto her once more, his head resting against her shoulder and his grey eyes staring out of the window opposite them. Silence easily fell between the two as Pansy gently rocked them both back and forth, her hand idly stroking the top of her son's head as they both gazed out at the moonlit grounds of the manor beyond the window pane. The silence remained for a good few minutes, both seeming content within the quiet company of the other before the young boy leant forward again, looking up at his mother with enquiring eyes.

"_What-- What _was _he like?"_

Pansy smiled rather sadly, her eyes panning back towards the window view with a far off expression as she scoured her mind for an appropriate answer to such a question.

"_He was.." _She paused, trying to find not only a fitting word, but one that the six year old on her lap would understand. _"Unpredictable and stubborn mostly.. But in a good way more often than not." _She grinned.

"_Uncle Blaise said he was a funny drunk.. But I didn't know what he meant, so I kicked him in the leg in case it was mean." _He grinned proudly. _"I know I have the same hair as him. But I have your nose, so don't feel sad."_

Pansy laughed, pulling him a little closer and hugging him towards her, nodding her head.

"_I know you do, darling. You have his eyes too. But it doesn't make me sad, I'm just glad that there's such a clear part of him in you."_

"_As long as you're not sad, then that's ok." _ He smiled up at his mother briefly before leaning back on her once more and continuing his questioning. _"Did he like Quidditch as much as I do?"_

"_Probably more than you do, come to think of it.. He even played for the Falmouth Falcons for a couple of years after we left school.." _She laughed softly at the confused expression on her son's face at the mention of Draco's ex team, shaking her head for a moment in the knowledge that if the boy's father was still with them, there would not have been a moment's doubt on the younger blonde's face when faced with such a name. _"And he played Harry Potter when we were at Hogwarts. They were both seekers."_

The boy's features screwed up in apparent disgust within his recognition of the name, his nose wrinkling and his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke.

"_Eww.. Harry Potter? Grandpa says that he's a jumped up little.."_

"_Now, now.. I do not want you repeating Lucius' views on Harry Potter, thank you very much." _She replied with a laugh. _"As much as I might share your grandpa's views on the boy wonder, I do not share the use of his language when speaking about him, and neither should you."_

"_Oh.. Ok. I'm sorry mummy." _He frowned towards his lap for a moment, his small fingers fiddling with a gleaming piece of metal that hung on a matching silver chain around his neck, and continuing to do so until a smile reached his lips again alongside another question. "_What was his favourite colour?"_

Pansy smiled, noticing the Slytherin crested ring her son was spinning in his tiny hands and letting out a saddened sigh at the sight of it. _"Green.. It was always Green. He was a Slytherin through and through, your father."_

"_Good, I like green too."_ The young boy smiled, oblivious to the faintly pained look on his mother's face as he continued to twirl the ring in one hand, his questions unceasing. _"Did he like dogs?"_

Pansy chuckled softly, shaking her head. _"No, not really. He preferred cats, he liked the fact that they were independent - that means that they didn't really need anything other than themselves to get by. He used to say dogs were nothing more than Hufflepuffs in animal form - stupid and eager to please."_

The boy frowned slightly, looking suddenly bemused. _"What's so wrong with that?"_

Pansy smirked; if only Draco were around to hear this.. _"I'm sure you'll find out on your own as soon as you start at Hogwarts, darling."_

The child nodded, having tired of playing with the silver around his neck and shifting his attention to toying with one mildly fraying edge of his sleeve.

"_Was he a good wizard?"_

Pansy nodded, smiling forlornly as she placed her head back on top of the young boys and stared out the window again, her brown eyes trained on a large white peacock pacing the silent grounds outside as she spoke. _"One of the best in my opinion, although I'm very probably biased. He tended to only do well at things that interested him though. As I said before, he was a stubborn man."_

The boy frowned sadly, his attention suddenly fixed on his sleeve as he near whispered out a reply. _"Is-- Is that why he died?"_

"_He--"_ She stopped, wondering how to finish the sentence when even the thought of answering had made her mouth suddenly dry up along with her vocabulary. _"He died doing what he loved; doing what he believed in. That's all that matters."_

Silence fell then, mother and son staring at different distractions in separate directions, but wearing the same furrowed brow all the same. The clock's merciless ticking took over, washing over the room in the same sinister beat, unyielding in its seeming want to perpetuate the conversation if only to banish the ominous noise. Taking note of such a wordless instigation, the boy spoke again.

"_Why did he give me the same name as him?"_

With Pansy's attention suddenly stolen from the window view by such a question, she offered a rather doleful smile in her son's direction, suppressing the sigh that she was tempted to give alongside it. _"Because, in your father's opinion, one Draco Malfoy could never be enough for the wizarding world."_ She grinned slightly, pressing a finger briefly to the tip of his nose as if to accentuate her point. _"Off to bed with you now. It's late, and you and I both should be asleep already. We'll talk more in the morning, ok?"_

"_Ok.." _The boy offered an understanding smile and nodded, jumping down from her lap and making his way towards the door, turning once he reached the doorframe with a rather telling gaze. _"I love you, mum.."_

Returning the expression, Pansy nodded her head, her hand finding the quill without even registering it as she gazed warmly at her son; at the only remaining link to her previous lack of words.

"_I love you too, Draco. Sweet dreams."_


End file.
